Clutching the Tatters
by ShadowForceSilver
Summary: After the death of the Joker, a distraught Harley Quinn turns her blame to the one she deems responsible. As she plans her revenge, she desperatly tries to clutch the tatters. A One-shot that I'm thinking of entering in a competition : CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ARKHAM ASYLUM, ARKHAM CITY AND HARLEY QUINN"S REVENGE!


**Clutching the Tatters:**

"No. No. _NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!_"

A small glass vase shattered as it was flung viciously at the nearest wall, with the noise being replaced by a high-pitched keening noise that sounded like somebody literally scratching their fingernails on a chalkboard. The deafening and erratic sobs echoed throughout the soundless walls of the abandoned steel mill as whatever remained of Harley Quinn broke down on the floor. Hot tears ran down the woman's face, smudging and blurring the thick eyeliner makeup she had not changed for days. Along with her newly dyed black hair and increasingly vicious demeanour it was evident that her mental state had rapidly deteriorated. And the current event wasn't exactly helping the situation.

Hiccupping slightly, Harley crawled onto her hands and knees and slowly swung herself around, leaning back against the baby crib in the middle of the room. Inside the simple crib and on top of the clean yellow sheets was a crudely crafted puppet shaped in the likeness of him. Her star. Her poor soul. Her 'Mistah J'. But she had lost him, the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to her. Before she had walked past that cell in Arkham Asylum, her life had been cold and meaningless. She loved and adored him, and he did too. _And... and..,_ Harley Quinn's lip began to quiver; she had lost what tatters remained of him. Surrounded by pregnancy tests and "Fruitful Endeavour" boxes, it tore Harley apart to see that each test had proclaimed the same result. Negative.

"Oh, Mistah J," Harley Quinn wailed. She began to wipe the tears out of her eyes again, further smudging the eye makeup.

"It's all my fault! I did this! I killed him. It's my fault he's dead. And you..."

Suddenly, Harley Quinn stopped. Silence once again took hold of the dwelling as the insanity in Harley struggled to make sense. Slowly the expression of grief on her face faded to one of ferocity and rage. That was it. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't Mistah J's. Not the Freeze guy or the Penguin Guy. Not Ivy or that cat. It was _his_ fault.

The Bat-brain may paint himself in such a noble and dignified manner and wear a mask of incorruptible justice, but that persona didn't fool her at all. _He_ was the one who had condemned her love to rot in the asylum. And when he escaped, _he_ felt the need to torture him even more by snaring the poor and innocent soul of Mistah J and clipping his wings once more. She couldn't bare it any more.

Harley knew Arkham Asylum inside out, and she felt that with her determination and love that she would be able to do anything. But there was more to the picture or so it seemed. Mistah J was smart, much more than any of those idiots of justice. He planned it all, and she was more than happy to comply. But the Bat-brain ruined everything and that was when it happened. Mistah J had gotten sick, because of that moron. He was dying, and she had to do something.

When they got transferred to Arkham City, another seemingly fool-proof plan by Gotham and that Warden-turned-Mayor, it didn't take them long to set up shop once again. But she was determined to make that... Batman pay for what he did to her hero. Everyone would pay for the pain they had caused, but Batman would most of all. So once again, she did everything Mistah J asked her to do. Everything. But it still wasn't enough.

The final time she saw her willing master, her shining star, her one true love was when he was cold and lifeless. And the one who was responsible was the one who was carrying Mistah J from the theatre; he had killed him in cold blood. _Why?_ She had cried in anguish. _Why would the Bat kill him? Mistah J had done nothing wrong and he killed him!_

And just then, it was the final straw. She had lost all that remained of her Mistah J today. The stress and the grief had killed her new shining little star, the grief from the death of her Joker, the grief brought on by that criminal in a mask. He was the evil one. He was the wretched one. He deserved death.

With that thought, a wicked grin came to Harley's cracked lips and her eyes lit up. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a good man for a bad man. Taking small breaths, Harley pushed herself up from the ground and stood up feebly. Her head spun like a gear as she quickly and sadistically planned the grand finale for the spectacular Batman. She would make him hurt, make him beg forgiveness and admit that he was so very wrong to kill her Mistah J. Then she would make Gotham fall to its knees in a flurry of fire and retribution. Then, and only then would she allow him to finally die. And when she had finally completed what Mistah J had tasked her to do, she would join her family in death. And she would be with them forever.

"It's ok, sweetie. I'm going to make it all better for all of us," Harley whispered. She mindlessly stumbled over to the doorway and looked down at the small courtyard or arena below. There. That would be where it would happen. Everything would end right there at that very spot. The smile came back to Harley's lips, but it was one of adoration and admiration. Her next words came out in a voice filled with love and truth, but one that also contained venom and vengeance.

"This is for you Mistah J."


End file.
